


Transposition

by astudyinperiwinkle



Series: The First-Move Advantage [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bath Sex, First Time, Hotel Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinperiwinkle/pseuds/astudyinperiwinkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik has always been better at being persuasive than responsible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transposition

**Author's Note:**

> In chess, Transposition is a sequence of moves that results in a position which may also be reached by another, more common sequence of moves. Transpositions can be used to lure opponents into unfamiliar territory.
> 
> This interlude takes place during the movie.

I couldn't believe how white his knuckles were. Two fists twisted into the hideously patterned bed covers all hotel rooms supplied. Suitably pale arms shook with each successive shove, shoulders rising over and over again to meet ears as pink as the cheeks slack in ecstacy. His mouth was caught between hanging agape and pulling tight in anticipation. It stung, how I adored this un-composed side of Charles. More marvelous still than my new-found appreciation for someone of the same sex was how thoroughly I enjoyed being under his command. 

One leg was hooked over his shoulder, flexing to pull him closer with each press forward because if he angled just right, he’d send blinding shocks through my body. My other leg he held at the calf, forcing it back against my shoulder. I touched his neck and face and arms in lieu of the kisses I really wanted to give but couldn't considering our position. There were easier positions for such tokens of intimacy but we had yet to try them.

Our second time today, our second time ever, and our first with Charles on top. It hurt, though not as much as I anticipated, but now that we were well into it, I found it to be enormously enjoyable. Whatever notions I had before seemed silly now that I had experienced both sides of same-gender sex. It had been wildly satisfying playing the role of top, to which I was obviously accustomed. And being on bottom now had the potential to be as gratifying but something was not quite right.

"Öffnen Sie Ihre Augen."

I realized belatedly I had spoken in my native German. By coincidence or if he had picked up on my unspoken request, blue eyes opened and locked on mine. In my peripheral I could see him manage a smile. Five fingers released the crumpled blanket and wrapped over my shoulder as he began moving faster. My arm entwined with his, pushing back on the crook of his shoulder every time he rocked forward.

The tell of his impending climax had been obvious during our first time. Knit brows, a shake in his muscles and a gasping hitch in his breath. Knowing he was moments away was all the motivation I needed to stop resisting the intoxicating rhythm of his hips. With no small amount of expertise, I worked quick to catch up to him. And when it happened, in a searing jolt of nerves and adrenaline, it was impossible to tell who went first.

Charles let go of my leg, slid the other from his sweat-sticky shoulder, and leaned forward to kiss my stomach, my chest, my shoulder. Lazy waves of hair long since fallen over his forehead tickled my skin with each kiss. Sprawled dead center of the bed as I was, he still found space next to me to lay without falling off or forcing us to lay full-length against one another.

The pillow under my head was warm and uncomfortable under my scalp now radiating heat. I sighed and nestled my head deeper anyway, burrowing my arms under the cushion where it was still cool. Soft tingles of sleepiness crept in, a nice compliment to the tiredness built in my muscles over the past few hours. Contentedly heavy breaths from next to me were just steady enough to send me into a dream state. And for minutes which felt like hours, I floated in my own skin, basking in the gradually slowing beat of my heart. It'd been a while since I'd enjoyed such exhaustive bedroom antics but the added newness of being with a man rather than a woman worked my body in a way I was not accustomed and I was happy to drift off until Charles' voice dragged me back to full consciousness.

"You know something, Erik?" Charles' words were lazy, almost sleepy.

"Mm?" I managed somehow to open my eyes and look at him.

"You just may have converted me away from women entirely." He kept his gaze on the ceiling but he smiled as he spoke.

I laughed briefly. "And it only took one evening? Either I'm that good or your inclinations swung wider than you let on."

He sat up with a chuckle. Where he got the motivation to move at all was beyond me.

"It's probably a bit of both, to be honest. However, seeing as we have a rather important day ahead of us, I suggest we either clean ourselves off proper or you commit to one side of the bed and we'll shower in the morning."

I felt the haze of sleepiness fading and the feeling of satiation was easing into rekindled desire. "What if I'm not in the mood for either?" I grinned. He laughed and leaned forward to pat my thigh.

"Your libido is quite impressive, and I fully intend on taking advantage of that in the future, but for now I refuse to be talked into a scenario that ends with either or both of us recruiting a fellow mutant half asleep and-or reeking of sex."

"Doesn't the young lady work as a stripper?" I asked. "Won't most other patrons at her place of work be half asleep and-or reeking of sex?"

"Don't you try and find an excuse to make this an all-nighter, Erik. We're not on honeymoon, we're helping the CIA. I'm trying to be responsible."

"And I love how you've taken that role to heart but I shouldn't be the one telling you to take the time to enjoy yourself." 

Before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting to his feet, Charles shot me a light-hearted but still disapproving glance.

What simple luggage we'd brought was sitting on the second bed we never had any intention of using. Far be it from us to tell the CIA we only needed a single room. I watched with little interest as Charles took out a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste from his meager travel bag and headed into the bathroom.

"Just because we're helping out the CIA doesn't mean we can't also take advantage of the hotel accommodations they've provided," I called after him. "I'm sure you've noticed the rooms back at headquarters aren't exactly soundproof. And considering we might have company tomorrow, shouldn't we also take advantage of the privacy?"

The quiet sound of him brushing his teeth was punctuated by the thick splat of spit hitting the sink. The water turned on and he spat again.

He left the bathroom light on and made his way back over to sit on the edge of the bed. It occurred to me then how natural he seemed in his nakedness. Comfortable and magnificently unabashed. 

"You know, you could sell snake oil," he remarked, smiling down at me. From the looks of it, he had used water to brush back the hair from his face. I liked the effect.

"And I could guess who'd be first in line," I sat up, pulling on a serious visage. "Look, I can be a reasonable man. Join me for a bath. That way, we both get what we want."

"I prefer showers."

"Well I'll just have to convert you on that, too."

Simultaneously, I leaned forward to kiss him and felt out with my consciousness for the metal knobs I knew to be fixed on the lavish bathtub in the other room. Everything in the room had a muted hum, loudest of all the metallic objects. Instinct directed me through the various frequencies to what I sought. I narrowed my focus to the handle I was certain was for hot water and willed it to turn. The whole process took moments and the sound of running water filled the hotel room before our mouths fully formed to one another's. Charles chuckled into my mouth and flattened me back down against the pillows, kissing me much harder than he had before.

When he was finally done, my lips were tingling. "Come on, then," he panted. He was off the bed and halfway to the bathroom before I had a chance to catch my breath.

"What's this?" He called over the sound of the running water. "You turn on the water but don't plug the tub?"

"It's not as if someone were distracting me." I moved my hand, feeling now for the metal lever that closed the drain. 

I peeled myself from the bed entirely, heavy from the hours we'd already spent working each other over but oddly ready for more. Walking was a strange sensation and I felt sublimely awkward in my movements. I stepped into the bathroom and found Charles sitting on the edge of the bath, a decent sized jet tub in actuality, with his feet in the rising water. In his hands was a tiny bar of soap he was unwrapping. He struck me as being so young then, a charming contrast to the air of being beyond his years which seemed to linger around him.

I knelt behind him and slid my arms under his and around his waist. One hand I slipped between his legs and found a slow rhythm of stroking with the flat of my palm and the length of my fingers to match the kiss I was giving against the nape of his neck. I took the back of one leg and pulled it outward, allowing more room for my now curling hand to dig deeper. His head dipped back and he leaned against me for support.

"The bath?" He mumbled and his voice vibrated through me. The soap in his hands seemingly forgotten.

He was aroused already and so was I, just not so much as to neglect my obligation to draw a proper bath. I concentrated through my quickening pulse and the water knob squeaked to the off position. The thunder of water dissipated to a few splashing drops, then there was nothing save the sound of our breathing.

"Get in," I commanded and he did, discarding the soap and its wrapper to the floor and slipping into the water with his back to the far end from the faucet. His arms reached out and welcomed me to his body.

There was just enough room for my knees so I could straddle his legs and loom straight-backed over his slouched position. And so I did, taking hold of the underside of his jaw, thumbs hooking across his ears. I looked down into his eyes and he smiled so easily. Fingers touched my sides as if waiting for a sign to find a proper grip. The smile I returned in kind. It was becoming easier to read him and his body language. I took his mouth in a kiss. Immediately, his nails were biting into my back and sides.

The water displaced by our bodies was nowhere near the lip of the tub, yet spacious as it was, it was hardly intended for two people. At least not side by side. So I stayed atop him, pushing my stomach to his chest with a steady pressure. Our bodies slipped as we moved and the resulting friction amplified the heat pounding through me.

My insides were aching with lust. I wanted so much more than the simple contact of another body. I'd experienced Charles for the first time mere hours ago and already it seemed as if I would never get enough of him.

"Erik," his voice vibrated between my lips. Teeth clicked against teeth as I fought to render him speechless. One hand I used to cradle his head so it would not be bruised against the tiles. The other I forced between us and took hold of him once more, this time gripping with conviction, twisting and wrenching in tandem. With a desperate gasp, he braced his elbows on the thin lip of the tub between him and the wall and strove to drive his hips upward with my motions.

Thoughts not quite my own suddenly infiltrated my mind and I almost laughed. Was Charles in such a state he was accidentally impressing his mind onto mine?

He was astounded by how natural it was, us together. Neither had been with a man before yet it was as if we knew just what to do. Each movement was orchestrated towards inevitable domination, a conquering of the mind and body alike. People as chess pieces on a board the breadth and width of a lifetime; our meeting was an encounter that was neither checkmate nor stalemate.

I was enjoying this side of him immensely. "Du bist zu hart zu denken, Schatz," I muttered with a smile against his temple, purposefully avoiding his native tongue this time.

"Am I?" he struggled through a moan against my neck.

I laughed softly. "Nun, ich bin mit dir rede in Deutsch, nicht Englisch ist."

He tried to laugh with me but was breathless. The effect was a series of weak puffs on my skin. The collaboration of thoughts in my head were diminishing to mine alone and his movements were slowing as he focused on reigning in his ability.

"It's no bother. I find your mind enjoyable."

Startlingly pale eyes ringed in dark circles of lust and tiredness rose to meet mine. His mouth never seemed to tire of smiling. "And I find you are enjoying my deliriousness to a large degree."

I am, I thought, hoping he would hear it. Aloud, I said, "Mind your head."

I kept my hand on the back of his head as I eased it to the edge of the tub where his elbows had been propped. Scooping his leg behind the knee, I forced him to bend in on himself so I could get him properly ready. It hadn't taken much trial and error to figure out the necessity the first time around. Perfecting the technique would be something else entirely, though.

It seemed Charles was still pliable from before and it wasn't long before he was ready and squirming. No prompting was needed and with some effort he successfully turned around to face the wall without sloshing water all over the floor. One forearm he braced along the rim of the tub. There was a plastic rail set halfway up the wall which he grabbed hold of as I took one of his legs, gripping the front of his thigh, and lifted it out of the water to position it at my side. I hooked my arm under his and used the same handle to help support his weight. The numerous adjustable jets lining the walls of the tub provided toeholds and the leverage needed to slide inside him.

He was almost uncomfortably tight, despite preparing him first. I pushed in slow, not wanting to hurt him more than was unavoidable. Against my arm, his steam dampened hair felt velvety compared to the uncharacteristic stubble lining his jaw.

His breaths were thick, muffled by the steam rising around us. Leaning over him as I was, I could smell the hours of travel and sweat he'd endured today. My hand clenched tighter around his thigh to hold him steady as I began moving.

More than before, everything felt exaggerated. Each movement was lined with electrical pulses. Each inch of flesh felt like a mile. Even with minimal movements, the water flowed back and forth in an opposing measure to mine. What we lacked in speed, however, I made up for with depth. I pulled as far as I could given our position and pushed until it was impossible to go comfortably father.

Then without warning, one of the adjustable jets I had been using for leverage moved and my foot slipped. Reflex locked my hand on Charles' leg and pulled him back for balance. The action was abrupt and his noise of pain echoed blatantly in the bathroom. The care in my movements cost me awareness in my surroundings and the pang of reproach was harsh.

"All right?" I paused, trying to see his head dropped forward between his hunched shoulders.

"Ah, yes," he panted. "I'm fine. Just please, be careful. I would like to meet our first official assignment standing on my own two legs."

I regained my footing, ensuring this time with my ability that any metal in the all the jet's mechanisms were invisibly bound to me. More gingerly this time, I returned to a physical cadence. A sort of reactive shiver shook Charles and I wondered if I had actually hurt him. But he said nothing more, didn't ask me to stop. Small groans as I pressed forward were some indication he was finding enjoyment again.

Both of his hands were busy keeping him above the water and off of the lip of the bathtub so I reached around his tilting hips to help him finish. The noise he made was indecipherable. I let my forehead rest against his arching back and sweat trickled from my scalp down my cheeks and chin, collecting and dripping onto Charles. I stopped using my legs to push and instead used only my hips to keep the motions short and deep. The sounds from his throat became strained and I knew I found the right spot.

My hand rolled him along my fingers, gripping harshly then massaging slowly underneath, my palm enveloping the soft compliment to his erection.

"God, Erik," Charles stammered. "Erik."

His hand on the rail clamped down on mine, interlacing our fingers and making my knuckles pop with his shaking weight suddenly resting on the back of my hand. His panting was hard and rapid. Even through my movements I could feel him shake, and I knew he was through. Warmer on my hand than the water we were in, he came. The shuddering cry from behind his clenched teeth was divine and there was a sense of accomplishment that I had been the one to extract it from him.

Soon I was moaning against his shoulder blades in a nerve-jarring orgasm of my own, and there I stayed until the consuming rush faded to numbness. When I finally moved again, I sat back, no longer caring if the water slopped over the bathtub's edge. With great care, Charles turned to sit facing me. His expression was afflicted as he settled and I knew then for certain I had hurt him.

"For god's sake, Erik, I'm not as frail as I may appear," he commented on my thoughts or the concern showing on my face, dismissing me either way with a wave of his hand. His bent legs fit between mine laying along the sides of the tub. Two vividly pink knees breached the surface of the water. "Like any new activity, it just takes some getting used to, you know?"

"I do," I agreed. Although sex with Charles was beyond any measure of wonderful, there was definitely a need to grow accustomed to the necessary physical repercussions.

"Well, anyway," he looked around at the water not so clear as it had been when we'd started. "Your ploy to get me in here seemed sound in theory but in practice we've rendered the bath useless. So much for two birds, one stone."

"Easily solved." I used my elbow to hit the lever for the drain. Behind me, the gurgling of the water being emptied filled the bathroom. Rather than strain to reach the water knobs not so readily at hand, I focused and flipped on the shower. Cold water hit us and quickly turned warm.

Charles was the first to get to his feet. I watched as he closed his eyes and faced the cascade of water, slicking back his hair and running his hands over his face. He took up a tiny bottle of shampoo and began working it into a lather. The runoff of suds traveled down his chest, sides, and legs and gathered at my body blocking the way to the drain.

I grabbed the soap from where it had been left on the floor and stood. It took some sidestepping to get out of Charles' access to the water without having to step out of the tub entirely. The tiny bit of soap smelled sweet but thankfully not too overly feminine and generated cheap feeling froth. We traded places and the jet of water cleared the suds and left me feeling surprisingly clean.

"As great as that was, I'm not entirely positive you're a good influence on me, Erik," he mused.

"Well, just imagine how deep you'll sleep tonight," I offered as Charles took the soap and began scrubbing his chest. I took from him the small bottle of shampoo and poured some into my hand.

"Tonight, yes," he agreed. "What should concern you is how little I'll be letting you sleep tomorrow."

I laughed, pausing from working my hands through my hair. "And what if we are successful in recruiting our first mutant for MacTaggert tomorrow?"

"Then for her sake I hope the CIA won't mind paying expenses for another room."


End file.
